


And In Your Arms I Figured Us Out

by eragon19



Series: Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Character Injury, Tooth Rotting Fluff, very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 15:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12214128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eragon19/pseuds/eragon19
Summary: John had figured it outagesago, but it takes a chase through an airport, an overly cheerful EMT and a trip to the hospital for John to finallydosomething about it.





	And In Your Arms I Figured Us Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morgendaemmerung89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgendaemmerung89/gifts).



> This was prompt given to me by the lovely Sarah for her birthday, I hope everyone enjoys it!

The case had dragged on for two long weeks. It wasn’t supposed to, Sherlock had insisted that he’d have it wrapped up in three days at most. Then the sister turned out to have a secret lover, who turned out to be a suspect, who then went to his mother-in-law who then went to her best friend and then- and then- and then John had just stopped paying attention. 

Oh was he kidding. He’d gotten so lost in the mess of twists and turns and new suspects that he was more than content to take a backseat and go where Sherlock pointed them. 

It didn’t help matters that the case had began just as John was getting over the flu. He’d emerged from his bedroom after his fever had finally broken, to find Sherlock deep in conversation with Greg. When Sherlock had seen him, his whole face had brightened in a way that made John’s chest go warm, which is why he’d agreed to come along instead of rest as should have.

Now, after two weeks of not enough sleep and only eating enough to keep going, John was regretting not telling Sherlock to go on without him while he rested. He wasn’t old damn it, he’d gone on longer missions than this in the army and he’d been fine. 

“John? John did you hear me?” 

John blinked back to the present to see Sherlock looking at him in concern. He must be looking pretty terrible since Sherlock had actually noticed. 

“Yeah, sorry. What was that?” he said, pushing away from the wall and approaching the whiteboard Sherlock stood in front of.

Sherlock eyed him for a moment, his brow furrowed, before turning back to the board. 

“I said, it was the grandmother’s friend. It all links back to her.”

He gestured to the whiteboard where pictures of the suspects were taped. Sherlock had used red marker to connect them all, before finally circling the culprit. It had been dizzying to watch, and John was sure if he was well he would have been highly impressed, but in his current state he couldn’t muster the energy to follow any of it. 

Sherlock’s huge hand came to rest on John’s shoulder as he pointed to the circled picture. “Evelyn Finn,” he said “and-

The door banged open and Greg barreled in, panting hard. “She bought a plane ticket!”

“When?” Sherlock asked whipping around.

“She got lucky, it’s the last seat on an international to Prague. The flight leaves in an hour!” 

He and Sherlock shared a look before they darted out the door after Greg.

 

***

Their shoes slapped loudly against the tile of the airport floors as they dashed after Evelyn Finn, who was surprisingly quick for someone near 70. John was feeling decidedly unwell as he followed Sherlock’s flapping coat. His stomach was churning and black spots danced before his eyes. He ignored it and kept plowing ahead, if he knocked into more people than usual, well he’d just have to deal with bruised elbows tomorrow. 

They were slowly closing the distance between Finn and themselves when Sherlock let out a sharp cry as he crashed into a tired looking woman dragging a duffel bag behind her. 

“Keep going John!” Sherlock bellowed, struggling to untangle his legs while glaring daggers at the woman, who met him glare for glare.

At any other time the sight of Sherlock’s long legs knotted up the bag strap would have sent John into hysterics while he helped the man untangle himself. Now, he felt too sick to muster up the energy to laugh. Instead he simply nodded and darted after the suspect, well as much as he could dart. It was more of a glorified stagger than anything.

Luck was with him for once. As Finn ran past the duty-free shop she crashed right into a woman laden with packages. The bags flew everywhere, the woman swore and Finn went down hard.

John was on her in an instant. Smothering a kernel of guilt- she was a murderer after all- he charged forward and followed her to the floor. Ignoring the shouts around him and the fuzziness in his head as he pressed a knee into her back and kept her shoulders pinned. 

“Police step back!” he heard Lestrade shout to the crowd gathering around. He jumped when the man’s hand came down on his shoulder. Greg hadn’t sounded so close…

“I can take it from here John, thanks” Greg said, his smile fading when he took in John’s expression. “You okay mate?” 

John nodded, swallowing passed the dryness in his throat and stood up slowly. The chase had taken more out of him than he thought. 

“Well done John!” Sherlock said, sprinting up to him. 

Sherlock was smiling as he approached, which was odd considering he hated missing the conclusion of a case. John grinned weakly back and blinked hard. He suddenly felt very dizzy.

“Are you alright John?”

John nodded, trying his hardest to focus passed the colourful spots dancing before his vision. He reached out and grabbed Sherlock’s lapel,trying to steady himself.

“John!”

Everything went black.

 

***

 

John’s eyes fluttered open slowly and a wall of sound hit him. Why was it so loud?

He blinked hard in confusion. Something scratchy was rubbing against his cheek and it was far far too bright to be Baker Street.

With another hard blink it all came back; the case the chase, _fainting_ , and now he was-

“John? John can you hear me?” 

John grumbled in reply, his throat was parched and his head throbbed. A water bottle appeared in his field of vision, clutched in Sherlock’s huge hand. John could only blink stupidly at his own legs stretched out before him as Sherlock tipped the bottle against his lips. 

That’s when he realized… he was in Sherlock’s lap.

Sherlock’s own legs were stretched out on either side of his own, and his chest was warm against John’s back. At anyother time John would have protested being held like this in public, but right now all he cared about was that it was warm and the room wasn’t spinning. 

The fact that is was Sherlock holding him had a lot to do with it was well.

“John?” Sherlock said tentatively as John’s hand slid over his on the bottle.

“I’m alright, just need a moment.”

He felt Sherlock relax behind him. 

“It’s alright John,” Sherlock said, and John could feel Sherlock’s warm breath against his ear. “Take all the time you need.”  
John nodded and relaxed against Sherlock’s chest, taking slow, tiny sips of water. 

“The medics are here,” Greg’s voice came from somewhere above them, but John couldn’t be arsed to look around. 

Footsteps approached and then a young medic was crouched in front of him.

“Dr Watson,” he said, “I’m Nathan, how you feeling?”

A snarky reply was on the tip of John’s tongue, but he smothered it. He’d dealt with enough surly patients in his day. Plus pissing the medic off would take energy, an energy John didn’t have. 

“Headache and dehydrated,” he mumbled. 

The medic nodded and carefully took the water bottle from him. “Let’s get you up then.”

To John’s surprise, Sherlock’s legs drew in closer to his own, and his hands clutched at John’s shoulders. 

“Do you really think that’s wise,” Sherlock snapped at the medic, “He just _lost consciousness_.”

Nathan gave Sherlock a patient look, before turning his attention back to John. “Can you stand Dr Watson?”

John nodded, and Sherlock’s hands tightened. 

“It’s okay Sherlock,” John said, patting his knee. “It’s better than getting taken out of here on a stretcher.”

Sherlock grumbled and didn’t move. 

John sighed, “What, are you going to carry me out then?” 

Sherlock’s body went still, the way it always did before he took action, and John sat up hurriedly. 

“Oh no, definitely not!”

He held out his hands to Nathan, and the medic grasped him firmly under the elbows and levered him up. Sherlock rose behind him, his hands firm on John’s hips, keeping him steady.

A wheel chair had been brought for him and John eased himself into it gratefully. Sherlock immediately took hold of the handles, ignoring the medic’s protests and began starring John carefully through the airport. 

“How long was I out?” John asked as they neared the doors.

“One minute and 20 seconds,” Sherlock said. 

John’s eyebrows rose at the precise number but he kept quiet. It didn’t feel like something to tease Sherlock about.

“Do I really need to go to the hospital?” John grumbled, eyeing the ambulance they were rapidly approaching with distaste Logically he knew he should, but he just wanted to go home and curl up in bed.

“Unfortunately yes,” Nathan said overly cheerful. “I doubt you’ll have to stay overnight, so don’t worry too much.”

John scowled at Nathan’s back as he opened the ambulance doors.

“Alright, let's get you settled,” the same tooth aching cheer was back and John could feel his patience wearing thin.

Sherlock had clearly had enough of it himself. Ignoring Nathan totally, he moved in front of John and gently helped him out the chair, wrapping a long arm around his shoulders to steady him. John leaned against Sherlock’s side and enjoyed the smell of him as the detective carefully helped him into the ambulance. Sherlock smelt of expensive cologne, the wool of his coat, and a touch of sweat. 

It was divine. 

“Are you sure this trip is necessary?” John grumbled, as Nathan settled him onto the stretcher, and began checking his vitals.

“I’m afraid so Dr Watson,” Nathan said, as the ambulance started to move, “You’ll need IV to rehydrate.”

John sighed and lay back, resigned to his faith. He knew it was necessary.If it was anyone else he’d be pushing them into the ambulance himself, but doctors did make the worse patients.

He caught Sherlock’s eye as Nathan tightened a pressure cuff around his bicep. The detective was staring at him, his eye narrowed and lower lip caught between his teeth. It was the most worried John had seen him in a while and he couldn’t help but be touched that it was over him. 

_Ah,fuck it._

He reached out and gently took Sherlock’s hand in his own. 

“Don’t look like that,” he said softly, giving Sherlock’s hand a squeeze, “I’ll be back on my feet by tomorrow, tonight even if I take it easy.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes further, the wrinkles on his brow deepening. He opened his mouth to answer then shut it with a huff, before turning away to stare down at his shoes. His hand tightened around John’s.

John stared at him a moment longer, enjoying the way the light reflected off Sherlock’s curls, before turning to stare at the ambulance roof with a sigh.

This _thing_ had been building between him and Sherlock for years. If there even was something. John was pretty certain there was, but a tiny, uncertain part of him kept his mouth shut. 

He sighed quietly. Now wasn’t the time to think about this, he _had_ just fainted.

_Excuses excuses._

***

The ride to the hospital passed in blurr of discomfort and anxiety for John. Finally, finally he was put in a room, ported up and left to enjoy his drip. 

Sherlock stayed by his side the entire time, his eyes glued to whichever part of John was being worked on and worry etched into every line of his face. Now the detective was pacing next to John’s bed, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

John had been watching him for a few minutes, the desire for action building and building within him. 

_Ah, fuck it._

As Sherlock’s pacing brought him close John stretched out and snagged the detective’s hand, pulling him to a halt. 

Sherlock looked up at him in shock as John pulled him closer.

“C’mere Sherlock,” he said, pulling the detective to sit on the edge of his bed. He was glad the chair next to his bed was stolen by the next bed’s visitor. He was also glad said visitor had shut the curtain between the beds tight.

“No more pacing yeah?” John said kindly, giving Sherlock a warm smile.

Sherlock stared at him a moment, before looking away again. John brushed his thumb over Sherlock’s knuckles, trying to sooth him.

“What going on in that big brain, hum?”

Sherlock looked back at him, lips pressed together. He was clearly struggling with what he wanted to say.

“Are you feeling better John?” he asked quietly.

John knew that haddn’t been what Sherlock was planning to say.

“Yeah, a lot better actually. Once this bag’s done they said I could leave,” John said, nodding toward his drip.

Sherlock eyed him again, his thumb rubbing absent mindedly over John’s forefinger. 

“Sherlock I-

John sentence was cut off as Sherlock kissed him. 

Shock coursed through John, freezing him solid. It was immediately followed by a bone deep feeling that this was absolutely bloody _brilliant._

Sherlock pulled back suddenly, eyes wide and breathing harsh. John didn’t let him go far. Before Sherlock could panic, John gently cupped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled Sherlock back in. 

Sherlcok’s lips met his, softly, gently, and John could feel his own hesitance reflected in the way Sherlock kept the kiss chaste. 

John slowly increased the pressure of his lips as Sherlock relaxed against him, his shoulders dropping and hands come up to rest against John’s chest. John hummed against Sherlock’s mouth and slowly licked at the seam of his lips, seeking entry. Sherlock lips parted with a soft sigh, letting John deepen their kiss. 

They kissed and kissed. John’s fingers found their way into Sherlock’s hair, and the sensation of those lush curls winding around his fingers felt a hell of a lot better than he thought it would.

Sherlock groaned and strong arms looped around John’s waist, pulling him as close as his IV would allow. The embrace made John feel safe. Protected in a way he’d never felt in any kiss before this. 

When they finally separated, they were both breathing hard. Sherlock was all but curled around him, his arms tight around John’ waist and the Belstaff spread around them. 

“Well that was one way to go about it,” John said with a grin, relishing Sherlock’s bark of laughter.

“You know me John, I’m a man of action,” Sherlock said, his eyes mischievous. 

John smiled and leaned in for another kiss. It was a rare person who could see that smile on Sherlock Holmes’ face and not want to kiss it off. Shame the option only belonged to John now.

He held Sherlock’s face gently between his hands and took a moment to just look him, taking in the familiar features that were somehow made new by the shift in their relationship. Now he could kiss those eyelids, that nose, those cheekbones…

Unable to help himself John leaned forward and pressed kisses to all these new/old features, fluttering kisses over Sherlock forehead, temples, cheeks. He would have kissed every inch of Sherlock’s face, but the detective cut him off, capturing John’s lips in another kiss. 

This one was edged with everything they haddn’t said. There was a desperation in it that John slowly soothed with his own mouth, trying to reassure and calm the man who held him so close.

_Ah, fuck it._

“I love you,” John said quietly, when they’d parted again. 

Sherlock stared at him, the room silent except for the soft voices of his roommate and visitor. 

“I have for a long time now, Sherlock,” John plowed on, “Years really. Before you faked you death and after you came back. I loved you then...I love you now.” 

The confession brought relief rather than fear. What ever happened now John would never regret saying this to Sherlock.

Sherlock eyes were warmer than John had ever seen them, his lips quirked in that little odd smile of his. 

John could kiss that smile now.

“John,” Sherlock said, his long fingers carding through John’s hair. “I love you too. I love you.”

John kissed that little smile wider. 

They eventually parted when Sherlock was smiling too wide to continue. 

“I love seeing you smile like this,” John said, stroking Sherlock’s neck.

Sherlock grinned, “I’m...excited,” he said, as if testing out the word. “I’m excited for this. For _us._ ”

“We have all the time in the world now,” John said.

Sherlock’s eyes glowed and he pulled John close again

When they separated, Sherlock stayed close, their nose brushing gently together.

“Yes we do, John. I was worried we would have gone to our graves, but now,” he grinned, “Now, we have today…” 

He gave John a kiss.

“And tomorrow,” another kiss.

“And the day after that.” Kiss.

“And after that.”

John giggled at the kisses raining down on his lips and pulled Sherlock into hug, his chest warm. 

This was his future and damn it he was excited. Well and truly excited, because now- now he could spend it all with Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
